Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned
by starcrossedunicorn
Summary: A girl who must keep a curse a secret transfers into Hogwarts in her sixth year. Will she be able to keep her secret, or will she be cursed for ever? Epilogue-era fic. Read and review!
1. Prologue: The Curse of the King of the B

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Prologue: The Curse of the King of the Bird People _

For as long as she could remember, Trista Nott loved sneaking out of her family home at night. She often went barefoot so she could feel the cool, damp grass tickle her feet and toes. This night was no exception, and Trista ran through her yard uninhibited by rules or restrictions.

Barely eight years old, Trista was the only child of her parents, Theodore and Tracey Nott. She was rather tall for her age and "Growing all the time!" according to her Grandmother, Phaedria. Her dark brown hair was usually found in a state of tangled unruliness, and she always trying to take in the world around her with her large hazel eyes.

Those very eyes spotted the edge of the woods behind her family home. She had always been too afraid to go back there, but tonight, she would hold her head up high and go bravely into those woods. She just knew that there was something wonderful back there that she just had to see. Sometimes, when she sat near the edge of the woods and listened, she could hear beautiful music that touched her heart and sometimes made her cry, though she didn't know why.

Trista balled her hands into fists and took a deep breath, and then she set off into the woods at a march. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. It wasn't scary at all in those woods now that she was in them. In fact, it was peaceful and lovely. The only regret Trista had was not going in there sooner.

A few minutes into her brave escapade, Trista could hear the beautiful music starting again. She decided that she had to find the source of that music to find that wonderful thing she knew was back there. Her feet and her ears seemed to work together as they both guided her deeper into the woods until she could see a faint bluish light. Gradually, the light grew larger and brighter, and Trista could see the odd looking silhouettes of strange creatures dancing to the music. They were strange, but not frightening at all. Trista inched closer as quietly as she could, and she found a large wild bush she could hide behind and see these strange creatures up close.

They looked rather like people, but for the large feathery wings sprouting from their backs. The men, it seemed, had dark, rich colored wings in colors like deep green, midnight blue, or crimson red. The women, on the other hand, had softer colored wings, soft whites, pinks, and yellows; almost like angel feathers.

The winged people seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing and dancing to the music that seemingly had no source. Trista wanted to join them, but a voice in the back of her mind told her that she didn't belong there. However, she did feel as though she had found the wonderful thing she was looking for. She made a mental plan to come back every night possible and watch.

Trista felt a small bug land on the back of her leg, and she turned to look at it and then brush it off. However, much to her horror, it was a rather large, nasty looking bug that had landed on her leg. Forgetting all about the winged people, Trista screamed and jumped up, kicking her leg to get the foul thing off of her. It flew away at the first kick, but Trista swore she could still feel it, and she did an odd little dance of her own trying to get the feeling of the bug off her leg. Suddenly, Trista tripped over something and fell backward, ending her dance.

When Trista looked up, she was horrified to see that she had landed in the area were the winged people were. They were all looking at her curiously; some of them also looked angry. Trista opened and shut her mouth trying to speak, but her voice seemed to have left her. One of the winged people, a man with wings so dark green they were almost black, approached Trista, frowning. He was wearing a white tunic with a gold rope belt around his waist, but that was all that Trista noticed before she covered her eyes and began wishing that she had never entered the woods. If she wished it enough, maybe it would come true.

"What are you doing here, human child?" the winged man asked. He had a deep, commanding voice.

Trista didn't answer because fear had seized her vocal chords and was refusing to let go.

"Do you know who we are?" The winged man asked. Trista shook her head without taking her hands away from her face. The winged man spoke again, "We are an ancient race called the Bird People. I am Ghar'tanion, King of the Bird People. I will ask you again, human child, what are you doing here? Answer me, or we shall feed you to the wild beasts of this forest."

"I'm sorry!" Trista sobbed, "I'm T-Trista, and was just w-watching you dance and listening t-t-to your music. And there was a b-bug on me and I got s-scared and I didn't mean to r-ruin your party! I'm sorry!"

"Trista," Ghar'tanion said, "Do you know how hard we Bird People must work to keep human eyes from seeing us? If humans were to see us, they would want to study us. They would lock us up in laboratories and perform terrible experiments on us. So, we must keep ourselves a secret never to be seen by human eyes. You, Trista, have seen us."

"I'm sorry!" Trista interrupted, still sobbing, "I won't t-tell anyone I swear!"

"I'm certain you wouldn't," Ghar'tanion replied, "Tell me, Trista, when will you be an adult?"

"Wh-when I'm seventeen," Trista choked out, "I'm-I'm eight now, so in n-nine years."

"Well then, to ensure that you don't tell anyone about us, I will make you like us," Ghar'tanion began.

"No!" Trista wailed, "Please no, I want to go home! I don't want to live here! I won't tell; I won't!"

"I am not inviting you to live here," Ghar'tanion said, "I am going to make you like us and then I'm going to send you home."

"You're going to curse me?" Trista asked, her voice a trembling whisper.

"What I do is not magic as humans know it, but I suppose that 'curse' is the best word for it," Ghar'tanion replied, and then spoke to the crowd, "Bring me my _ka'ar_!"

A male Bird Person pushed his way through the crowd moments after Ghar'tanion gave his order. Trista didn't know what a _ka'ar_ was, but she realized it was like a staff that sorcerers in fairy stories used. Sorcerers used their staffs for magic, so perhaps Ghar'tanion would use his _ka'ar_ in the same way.

"Can you stand, Trista?" Ghar'tanion asked his voice suddenly gentle.

With some difficulty due to her shaking knees, Trista stood up and looked down at the ground as Ghar'tanion spoke again.

"This will not hurt," he said as raised his staff above his head and began speaking in a strange language.

As he spoke, Ghar'tanion moved his _ka'ar_ in a circular pattern over his head creating a swirling pattern of soft pink light. He brought his _ka'ar_ down and the swirling light stayed over his head. He continued to speak, and at one point Trista heard him say her name clearly. It was at that point that the swirling light moved toward her.

Tears pouring down her face, Trista watched as the light swirled around her, stretching from the top of her head down to her toes. It was warm and almost comforting, and Trista wished that it would never go away. However, it did go away; it went right inside her. As the warmth of the light faded and the chill of the night air crept across her skin, Trista looked up at Ghar'tanion.

"If you keep this a secret until the day you turn seventeen, the 'curse' will be broken," Ghar'tanion explained. "If, however, you tell a single soul, you will have those wings for the rest of your life. And remember, Trista, you must never, ever tell anyone about us. Now go. Go home."

As soon as those last words hit her ears, Trista turned and ran from the Bird People. She ran as fast as she could through the woods. She was so scared that Ghar'tanion would change his mind and come after her and feed her to the wild beasts. She ran and didn't stop until she was out of the woods and halfway across her family's lawn. She fell to her knees gasping for breath and clutching a stitch in her side.

When she had caught her breath, Trista realized that she didn't feel any different. Did she have wings, or did Ghar'tanion just say he was going to give her wings to scare her? Apprehensively, Trista reached back over her shoulder until the felt feathers. Realizing that Ghar'tanion had indeed given her wings, Trista ran into the house and, as quietly as possible, went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

The wings, she saw, were soft pink in color, exactly like the light that had surrounded her. They felt, for lack of a better term, light as a feather. It almost felt as though they weren't there. Still, they were there, and Trista had to keep them a secret.

Trista concentrated on making the wings fold in like she had seen some of the Bird People do until the appropriate muscles responded and the wings folded. She did this until she could fold her wings without thinking about it and then began looking for something to hold them down. She took off her nightgown with some trouble and found a lengthy bandage in the medicine cupboard. Then, with great difficulty, she wrapped the bandage around her upper torso and her wings. She pulled her night gown back on, and looked in the mirror again. She decided that unless a person looked hard enough, they wouldn't be able to tell something had changed about her. Exhausted, Trista made her way up to her bedroom and fell asleep as soon as she was in her bed.

_To be continued…_

_(Author's Note: Hello! Thank you for reading my story! It doesn't seem to have anything to do with HP yet, does it? Don't worry, it will. Oh, and don't forget to review! If you have your own story, leave a link in your review and I'll read and review your story! If you liked this story so far and need something to pass the time until I update, why not check out my other stories? Or you could review this one some more…I love reviews!)_


	2. Chapter One: A Most Unusual Education

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter One: A Most Unusual Education_

For eight years, Trista managed to keep the events of that fateful night a secret. She'd had some close calls when someone would begin to open her door without knocking, but a panicked "I'm changing!" had thankfully kept them out so far. She had grown used to the wings over the years, and at night when everyone was asleep, she'd release them from their bindings and work the wings' muscles. She rarely ventured outside at night anymore. She didn't need to meet a group of…Lizard People or something and wind up with a horrible, scaly tail to go along with her wings.

In the mornings, Trista woke up extra early to make sure her wings were properly hidden. Then, she waited for her parents to wake up, and she had breakfast with them. Her mother, Tracey, was quite lovely Trista thought. She thought her father, Theodore, was handsome, but Trista was glad she looked like her mother. She didn't think her father's features would translate well on a girl.

After breakfast, Trista went to her lessons. She hadn't gone to Hogwarts like other witches her age. Instead, she was homeschooled by her Great-Great-Grandfather, Acacius Pollux Constellatius. It was an unusual arrangement because Acacius had been dead for a good many years. So, Trista was actually homeschooled by the portrait of her Great-Great-Grandfather, whom Trista called 'Acacius' because they both agreed that 'Great-Great-Grandfather' took too long to say. Several uncustomary changes had to be made for it to work. For example, Trista couldn't turn in any of her work to Acacius, so all of her homework and essays had to be read aloud. Then, Acacius would tell Trista her grade; she actually kept track of all of her own grades.

When it came to practicing spells and charms, her mother stepped in to oversee that part of her education. Trista was very good at incantations because she had learned early on in her education to speak clearly. Otherwise, Acacius couldn't hear her well. As for her exams, those were overseen by a Ministry of Magic witch or wizard who would come to Trista's home and administer them.

This year, however, Trista would finally be starting at Hogwarts. She would be starting as a sixth year, but she was excited. Even if it meant a larger group of people to keep her secret from, she was prepared to do it.

It was nearing the end of August, so the day Trista would leave for Hogwarts was very close. She was understandably nervous and excited; she could often be found in her makeshift classroom begging Acacius to review everything with her "just one last time, please, Acacius." He would sigh dramatically, but then review with Trista until she was satisfied. He knew that she wanted to do well in Hogwarts.

"Do you think you'll forget everything when you go to Hogwarts?" Acacius asked one day.

"No," Trista replied, "I just want to make sure I remember everything correctly. I'd hate to be behind because I didn't study properly over the summer."

"I believe you'll be fine, Trista," Acacius replied.

"Yes," Trista agreed, "I'll be perfectly fine."

"So, tell me, what house do you think you'll be in?" Acacius asked.

"Slytherin, of course," Trista replied, "I belong in Slytherin; I know I do."

"Yes, I imagine you're right," Acacius said.

"My room is done up in Slytherin colors, you know," Trista said after a few moments of silence, "All green and silver."

"Is that so? Well then, you'll feel quite at home in the Slytherin common rooms, I believe," Acacius replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Trista, I need to go see what Rogatus is up to."

"Of course," Trista replied, "Tell him I said 'hello'."

Acacius waved his acknowledgement of Trista's request and rose from his painted seat. Trista watched him walk out of his portrait and then into the on right next to it. The story of this was an old family tale. Acacius had a twin brother, Rogatus Castor Constellatius, who had died when he was twelve years old. A portrait of Rogatus had been placed in the very room Trista was standing in, and many years later when Acacius died, his portrait was placed next to Rogatus'. The brothers were both able to visit each other's portrait, but Trista thought that Rogatus preferred his own because she never saw him come in Acacius'.

--

The days seemed to go by more quickly than usual, and before Trista knew it, it was the day before she was to go to Hogwarts. It had been arranged for her to arrive before the other students and be sorted privately in Headmaster Grinkleby's office. She was to floo to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade and wait there for Professor Flitwick to escort her to the school.

During dinner that night, Trista could barely eat. She pushed her potatoes around her plate taking a bite only when she saw her mother or father looking.

"Are you nervous about Hogwarts, Trista?" Tracey asked.

"A little," Trista admitted.

"Don't be, you'll do fine," Tracey said reassuringly.

"Besides, you're probably already smarter than most of the seventh years there," Theodore said.

"I hope I'm caught up well enough," Trista replied.

"Oh, you are," Tracey said, "The Ministry would have put you in fifth year if you weren't."

"They wouldn't put her in fifth year, Tracey. They let that idiot Longbottom move up, didn't they?" Theodore said bitterly.

"Now, Teddy," Tracey replied, admonishing her husband, "That was years ago when we were in school. They've changed their standards since Dumbledore died."

"I just hope Odin Grinkleby knows how to run a school," Theodore muttered. He then turned to his daughter, "Don't forget Trista, you're going into Slytherin. Otherwise, we might disown you!"

"Teddy!" Tracey exclaimed and then smiled at Trista, "He's joking. We'd love for you to be in Slytherin, Trista, but it's okay if you're in Ravenclaw."

"I'm going to be in Slytherin," Trista said. "I'll be in Slytherin, or I won't be in any house."

"Well, once the Sorting Hat places you in a house, you're stuck in that house until you finish school," Tracey explained.

"The Sorting Hat'll know where to put you, sweetie," Theodore said. "Don't you worry about that."

Trista nodded and looked at her plate and realized that she had managed to eat nearly everything on it. Deciding that she'd had enough to eat, Trista excused herself to finish packing before she went to bed.

While her parents were still talking in the dining room, Trista went up to her bedroom and looked around. Her dark wooden walls were the only thing in the room that wasn't in Slytherin colors. Green and silver were easily her favorite colors, and they were the colors she would wear at Hogwarts.

Trista checked her trunk to make sure she had packed sufficiently. She'd packed her books, cauldron, quills, parchment, her uniform robes, and extra robes for the weekends; her toiletries, undergarments, and of course, the bandages she would need to hide her wings. She hoped she'd packed enough bandages for the year. She wasn't sure how she'd get more if she ran out.

Having done all the packing she could, Trista laid down on her bed on top of the covers. She knew it was far too early to go to bed, and she had a nervous sort of energy she needed to expend, but she didn't know what to do to calm it. It was too early to free her wings lest she take the risk of her mother or father coming in to wish her goodnight.

So, Trista lay on her bed looking up at her ceiling thinking of what would happen tomorrow. She imagined she would meet briefly with Headmaster Grinkleby before being sorted into Slytherin. After that, she knew she would go down to the Great Hall to wait for the other students and watch the first years get sorted.

She tried to imagine what the other Slytherins would be like. The only Slytherin currently at Hogwarts she knew was Scorpius Malfoy, but she didn't know him well. At best, they were merely acquaintances who'd had a few meals together when the families decided to have a party.

Trista continued to imagine Hogwarts and her time there until she drifted off to sleep. Her dreams seemed to continue her thoughts. She dreamed that she became the most popular Slytherin student and that the entire schooled wanted to be her friend.

When she woke up early the next morning, Trista got out of bed feeling good about Hogwarts. She took a longer shower than usual, and after drying off, she hid her wings and dressed for the day. Then, there was nothing left to do except wait for one o'clock when she would leave.

Trista waited until the sun came up before going downstairs for breakfast. Her mother was in the kitchen telling their house elf, Alfie, what to fix for breakfast.

"And mind you fix it very well today, Alfie," Tracey said, "Trista's leaving today."

"Yes, ma'am," Alfie replied nervously and bowed. "Alfie will."

"See that you do," Tracey replied and turned to leave. She spotted Trista and smiled, "You're up early, darling. Did you sleep well?"

"I slept fine," Trista replied.

"Good! Breakfast will be ready soon. Are you all packed and ready to go?" Tracey asked.

"Yes, I'm all ready," Trista replied.

"Well then, I guess there's nothing left to do but wait," Tracey said.

--

The time had finally come for Trista to leave, and she dragged her trunk down to the sitting room, which had the largest fireplace in the house. She set her trunk on its side in the fireplace, and then turned to say goodbye to her parents. She had a satchel on her back to hide the feelings of her wings when her parents hugged her. The satchel was filled with things for her to do while she waited for Professor Flitwick.

"Take care of yourself, sweetie," Tracey said, hugging Trista tightly, "Write home all the time. I'll miss you so much!"

"I'll write every week," Trista promised, and then turned to her father. "Dad?"

"You'll be fine, Trista. You'll be in Slytherin, and everyone will love you," Theodore said to his daughter, hugging her.

"I'll be in Slytherin, don't worry!" Trista promised. She looked back at the fireplace; the green flames were starting to die down. If she didn't hurry, the floo powder would run out and her trunk would catch fire. "Well, I'd better go."

"Oh, one more hug!" Tracey exclaimed and hugged Trista one last time. "We'll see you at Christmas, darling!"

"Bye," Trista said, "I love you."

"We love you too," both her parents said nearly in unison.

Trista stepped in to the fireplace and shouted "The Three Broomsticks!" The last thing she saw was her father putting his arm around her mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Trista didn't travel much, and traveling by Floo was by far her least favorite form of travel after portkeys. She closed her eyes and waited until her feet hit the ground in the Three Broomsticks before opening them again. She looked around the pub wondering if Professor Flitwick was already there. She had nothing to go on but a description of him, but everyone in there looked to be average height. So, Trista dusted herself off and stepped out of the fireplace. Two kind wizards helped her with her trunk.

After a short while, Professor Flitwick finally entered the Three Broomsticks. Trista stood up so he would notice her, and he came over to her.

"Miss Nott?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm Trista Nott. You must be Professor Flitwick," Trista replied.

"I am," Flitwick squeaked. "Do you have your things?"

"Yes," Trista replied nudging her trunk with her foot.

"Well, let's just shrink this up a bit to make it easier to carry," Flitwick said and pointed his wand at her trunk. It shrunk to the size of a lunch pale, and Trista picked it up.

"Thank you," she said.

"It's no problem," Flitwick replied, "I'll show you where to leave it once we reach Hogwarts. It will be its normal size when you get it again."

"Get it again?" Trista asked. She hadn't realized they were going to take her things away.

"When you go to your dorm," Flitwick explained.

"Oh," Trista replied.

"Shall we go then?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes," Trista replied.

And so, Trista followed Professor Flitwick out of the Three Broomsticks, down the main street of Hogsmeade, and onto the road that led to Hogwarts.

_(Author's Notes: Well, that was chapter one. Trista gets sorted in the next chapter, and then the fun really begins! Don't forget to review! Thanks for reading! I abuse exclamation points!)_


	3. Chapter Two: The Sorting Hat’s Decision

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Two: The Sorting Hat's Decision_

Once they reached Hogwarts, Professor Flitwick led Trista up several floors and down a long corridor until they reach a large stone gargoyle. Trista remembered her parents telling her that doors at Hogwarts could be concealed behind, or even within, anything. She wondered if this gargoyle was hiding a door.

"Wodinaz," Flitwick said to the gargoyle, which sprang to life and stepped aside revealing a small alcove. Trista looked at Flitwick for instructions. "Well, go on," he said.

Trista looked in the small alcove again and saw that a spiral staircase was rising out of the ground. She figured it must lead to the headmaster's office, so she stepped onto one of the steps and watched the stone walls go by as she rode up.

When the stairs stopped, Trista could see a large, oak door with a large, golden knocker on it. She had to climb a few steps to reach it, and then she reached for the knocker.

"Enter," said a man's voice from behind the door.

Trista slowly opened the door and peeked inside before actually stepping into the room. It was a large, circular room with rich wood walls and an elegant woven rug on the floor. The walls were lined with shelves that were filled with books, and upon a few tables were photographs and various knick knacks.

In the middle of the room was a large wooden desk, and behind that desk sat Odin Grinkleby. He was far younger than Trista had expected, perhaps only in his fifties. He was tall and stocky with olive skin, a kind face, and thick, dark hair. When he saw Trista enter the room, he smiled at her.

"Ah, you must be Trista," he said, and waved his wand. A chair appeared in front of the desk, and Grinkleby gestured to it, "Please, have a seat."

Trista sat in the chair, looking at the wall behind the desk. There was a large bulletin board put up there, and on it was what appeared to be a child's art work. Grinkleby must have noticed her looking at it, because he turned around to look himself.

"My daughter, Holly, did those," he said, "She's only three years old."

"Oh," Trista replied, "That's…umm, that's nice."

"So, starting sixth year, are we?" Grinkleby asked.

"Yes, sir," Trista replied.

"All right then. Well, there's really only the matter of getting you sorted into your house," Grinkleby said, picking up an old frayed hat that Trista hadn't noticed before. "Once the Sorting Hat places you in a house, there is no chance of changing houses. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir," Trista replied. She recalled her mother telling her that the hat would place where she wanted to go, so she began to think '_Slytherin, Slytherin. Slytherin.' _over and over.

"So, tell me, Trista," Grinkleby said, "Where do you think you'll do best?"

"Slytherin, of course," Trista replied without hesitation. "Both my parents were in Slytherin. It's where I belong."

"Mm-hmm," Grinkleby hummed, nodding. He handed the Sorting Hat to Trista and said, "Put it on."

Trista took the hat and pulled it down onto her head. At first, nothing happened, but then Trista heard a voice speaking to her inside her head.

"Ah, a sixth year transfer, I see. I've never sorted the likes of you before," the Hat said, "I heard you say you think you'll do well in Slytherin."

"Yes," Trista replied, "It's where I'd like to be placed. I'll do best there."

"Yes, yes, I agree," the Hat replied, "You would do exemplary in Slytherin."

Trista felt herself getting excited; she just knew that the Sorting Hat was going to announce that she would be in Slytherin.

"You would do very well in Slytherin," the hat continued. "However, I'm not going to place you where you'll do best. I'm going to place you where you'll benefit the most."

"Benefit the most?" Trista asked.

"Yes, and I think you'll benefit the most in…" the Hat suddenly spoke aloud, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The word echoed off the walls several times before the room quieted again. It continued to echo inside Trista's head. She couldn't believe it at all; there was no way that she was in Hufflepuff. She _was_ a Slytherin; her parents raised her to be a Slytherin.

"Well, that's that, then," Grinkleby said cheerfully, "Too bad about Slytherin. What d'you say you and I go down to the Great Hall to wait for the other students?"

"No," Trista replied frowning, "I want the hat to sort me again. I'm not going into Hufflepuff."

"I'm sorry, Trista, but you said yourself that you understood that once the hat places you in a house, there is no changing it. You're going to be a Hufflepuff for the next two years," Grinkleby said sounding honestly sorry.

"I'm not going into Hufflepuff," Trista replied, ignoring Grinkleby's sympathy. "I belong in Slytherin."

"There's nothing I can do," Grinkleby replied.

"Fine," Trista replied bitterly, "But I won't make friends with any of them."

"Suit yourself," Grinkleby sighed as he rose from his desk. "I'm going down to the Great Hall to wait for the other students. You're welcome to walk with me, but if you choose to stay behind, I'll have to ask that you leave my office."

Trista stood up and, after glaring daggers at the stupid old Sorting Hat, left the room followed by Grinkleby.

She remembered her way to the Entrance Hall, but Trista still kept Grinkleby within her view in case she took a wrong turn. She didn't blame him for unfortunate house placement, but she wasn't feeling too kindly toward him either. He was the headmaster, so he should be able to override the decision of a stupid hat.

They reached the Great Hall and Trista sat down at the very end of the Hufflepuff table with a 'humph'. She glared at the large, Hufflepuff banner hanging over the table, and continued to sulk as students began to fill the hall.

A few older Hufflepuff students gave Trista a curious look, but she scowled at them and they turned away. She absolutely would not make friends with them; she would make friends with the Slytherins.

When Scorpius Malfoy finally came in, Trista jumped up. Excited to see a familiar face, she hurried over to where he was sitting with his friends.

"Scorpius!" she exclaimed.

"Trista?" Scorpius asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I go here now!" Trista replied.

"I didn't notice you when I came in," Scorpius said. "Did you get sorted already, or do you have to do it with the first years?"

"I've already been sorted," Trista replied, and then sighed dramatically, "The stupid hat put me in Hufflepuff."

"Hufflepuff?" Scorpius snorted giving Trista a look of disgust, "Then what are you doing over here?"

"I don't _want_ to be in Hufflepuff," Trista replied, "I had no choice."

"Go back to your own table before my friends see you and think I associate with losers and mudbloods," Scorpius replied coldly.

"Scorpius…" Trista began, "I'm not in Hufflepuff by choice."

"Well I'm not going to associate with you _'by choice'_," Scorpius replied, "Slytherins don't associate with Hufflepuffs, and a true Slytherin would have been placed in Slytherin."

Tears stinging at her eyes, Trista turned and stormed away. She should have known better than to think Malfoy and the other Slytherins would accept her when she was in Hufflepuff. Her own father had joked that he would disown her if she was put in Hufflepuff. Now, she wondered if perhaps he wasn't joking.

Trista sat back down at the end of the Hufflepuff table and ignored some girls who tried to talk to her. She ignored the sorting of the first years, and she only half listened to Grinkleby's pre-dinner speech. When dinner appeared on the tables, Trista fixed herself a plate, but could barely eat through her anger.

Dinner vanished and dessert appeared, and after everyone had their fill, that too vanished. Trista was still angry, and she took turns glaring at her fellow Hufflepuffs and the Slytherin table. She didn't even notice when Grinkleby announced that it was time for bed, but she did notice when someone poked her in the arm. She turned to tell off the person and saw that it was one of the girls who tried to talk to her before. She had light brown hair and dark green eyes.

"What?" Trista snapped.

"Well, you're new, right?" the girl asked.

"So?" Trista replied coldly.

"So, you can follow me to the dormitory if you want," the girl replied. Correctly interpreting the look on Trista's face, the girl added, "You don't have to walk with me or even talk to me, but I imagine you don't want to sleep in the corridors."

"Fine," Trista replied, standing up to follow the girl.

"The password's 'Diligence' in case you lose me," the girl continued, "Just follow the ones wearing yellow and black."

Trista nodded curtly and let the girl go ahead of her. She followed the girl across the entrance hall and down a set of stairs into the basement. Trista could smell food and guessed that the Hufflepuff dormitory was near the kitchens.

Finally, they reached a large painting of several bumblebees flying in a meadow. The bees flew up to the middle of the painting and spelled out '_Password?_'

"Diligence," the girl said. The bees reformed and now they said '_Enter_'.

The painting swing out revealing a door way into a large common room. Trista followed the girl into the room and looked around. Lush, black carpeting cover the floors, and the walls were painted bright yellow. Scattered about the room were black sofas, yellow armchairs, and wooden tables and chairs. Some students were sitting around the common, but some had gone up to bed.

"What year are you?" the girl asked.

"Sixth," Trista replied.

"Oh, me too!" the girl replied, "Our dorm is through that arch way and down the hall. It says 'Sixth Years' on it, so you can't miss it."

"Okay," Trista replied.

"Okay…then I'll just go to the dorm," the girl said.

"Bye," Trista replied.

Trista looked at the people still in the common room, but none of them seemed to pay her any attention. She expected them to treat her like an outsider not only because she was a new student, but also because she felt like she gave off a Slytherin aura. Once Trista realized that they weren't going to chastise her for ending up in the wrong house, Trista hurried through the archway and down the hall to the sixth years' dorm.

When she came into the room, Trista could easily tell which bed was hers. It was the only one that didn't have someone sitting on it. The girl who had helped her was in the bed directly to the right of Trista's. As Trista approached her bed, the girl stood up again.

"You must think I'm terribly rude for not introducing myself," the girl said. "I'm Isabella Matthews, but everyone calls me Isa. That's Amy Starsman, Gertrude Hollows, and Allie Smith." Isabella introduced the other girls, pointing at each one as she said their names.

"Trista Nott," Trista replied stiffly, "But don't bother talking to me after this unless I talk to you first."

The other girls looked taken aback by Trista's behavior, but they nodded slightly and exchanged confused glances with one another. Trista wanted to laugh at their confusion, but instead she decided to see how much she could control these girls.

"I'd like to go to bed _if_ you don't mind," she said coldly.

"Oh," Amy said, "we're sorry. We'll just go down to the common room and talk. Sleep well."

Trista snorted and glared at the girls as they left, whispering to each other and throwing glances back at Trista. After the girls were gone, Trista checked her bindings and got ready for bed. The beds in Hufflepuff were much smaller than the ones Trista was used to. She'd bet a thousand galleons that the Slytherin beds were just like the ones at home. Grumbling to herself about the stupid Sorting Hat's stupid decision, Trista rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

_(Author's notes: Chapter Two! Did you like it? Trista will be taking the core classes: Astronomy, Charms, DADA, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, and Transfigurations. She can't take any electives, because she would be too far behind in those classes. Thanks for reading, and I hope you come back for the next chapter!)_


	4. Chapter Three: Group Assignment

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Three: Group Assignment_

Trista woke up the next morning, and it took her a moment to remember where she was. When her mind caught up with her and she remembered she had come to Hogwarts, Trista checked to make sure her wings weren't showing, and then pulled open her hangings. She saw that Amy was still in the room and was already dressed in her uniform.

"Your uniform's at the end of the bed," Amy said in a quiet voice, and then she grabbed her book bag and started out of the room.

"Wait," Trista called as a plan formed in her mind, "I want to apologize for last night."

"What?" Amy asked.

"I'm sorry," Trista said, "It's just that I was tired and I can get cranky when I'm tired…"

"Oh, that's all right," Amy replied and smiled, "We all get like that sometimes."

"It's no excuse," Trista said, and then subtly changed the subject, "How much longer do I have for breakfast?"

"Oh, a good while. An hour at least, I'd say," Amy replied, checking her watch.

"Hmmm," Trista hummed thoughtfully, "Hey, I still need to take a shower. Do you think you could maybe go grab me something and bring it up here?"

"Oh, umm, sure," Amy replied.

"Thanks," Trista said, "And if you see the other girls, tell them I'm sorry."

"I will," Amy said as she was heading out the door.

Trista smiled to herself as she gathered her things for the bathroom; that girl was too easy.

Now that she didn't have to worry about making it to breakfast on time, Trista took her time in the bathroom. After her shower, Trista used her wand to dry off and then put on her undergarments. Then, she used her wand again to wrap her wings and secured the dressing around them. She pulled on her robes, frowning slightly and the yellow and black badge that had been embroidered onto them, and checked to make sure there were no tell-tale bumps or bulges. When she was satisfied that no one could tell something was amiss about her, she brushed her hair and went back into the dormitory.

Upon entering the dormitory, Trista saw that Amy had dropped off her breakfast. It was tied up in a napkin and sitting on the night stand next to her bed. Trista sat on her bed and opened the napkin. Inside were two pieces of toast, an orange, and a hard-boiled egg. Trista grabbed a piece of toast and noticed that it was still warm. Had Amy actually cast a charm to keep it warm? Well, Trista decided, she might just have to keep that girl around.

After finishing her breakfast, Trista found Amy in the common room and convinced the girl to help her find her classes. Amy agreed, and while they walked to their first class, Herbology, Trista managed to keep up a conversation with Amy. She had to pretend to be interested, but that wasn't that hard at all. She just smiled a lot and sounded excited when necessary.

--

As Trista and Amy reached the greenhouse they would be working in, Trista saw that they had Herbology with the Slytherins, and her high spirits sank. She saw Scorpius Malfoy talking with a group of Slytherin boys; he hadn't noticed Trista yet.

"Oooh, I hope the Slytherins aren't too mean this year," Amy lamented.

Trista didn't want to console Amy, but at the same time, she also hoped the same thing. She could feel Scorpius watching her as she walked by, but she did her best to ignore him. She followed Amy to join the other girls from her dorm and dared to take a glance over at Scorpius. He gave her a look of disgust and turned away.

"Welcome to greenhouse eleven, sixth years," Professor Longbottom said coming into the greenhouse to start class, "This semester, we will be working on a new project; a group project. You will be working with your dorm mates, so, Hufflepuff boys will be a group, and Hufflepuff girls will be a group. Same with the Slytherins. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor," the class chorused.

"Good. Now then, then project you will be working on is to grow snargaluffs from a seedling and collect the pods," Professor Longbottom explained, "You will keep them in your dormitories until the second week of November. After that, you will bring the snargaluffs back to this green house to plant them in the ground. Today, you will work in your group to plant the seeds into these special pots. I want each group to choose a leader, who will then come up and get a pot from me."

Trista looked at the other Hufflepuff girls waiting for one of them to jump at and claim leadership, but none of them did. They all just looked at each other and shrugged. Realizing that this wouldn't get them very far, Trista decided to take up the role herself.

"I'll do it," she said and went to go get a pot before the girls could react.

Much to her dismay, and very much not to her surprise, the Slytherin boys had chosen Scorpius their leader. She joined the line right behind him determined to ignore him.

"So, what's it like being so thick that you can't even convince a ratty old hat to put you in a decent house?" Scorpius asked, smirking. When Trista didn't reply, he continued, "You would have been a terrible Slytherin anyway. You fit in with the Hufflepuffs just fine, don't you? I guess we finally know what your last name means; Trista _Nott_ in the Slytherin!" Malfoy stopped to snicker at his own joke.

"Oh, ha ha," Trista replied sarcastically. "You're the very epitome of wit, Malfoy."

"Oooh, good comeback!" Malfoy replied just as sarcastically, "Did your new Hufflepuff friends teach you that?"

"At least they act like their sixteen and not ten," Trista replied noticing Professor Longbottom was holding a pot out for him and frowning. "Take your pot and go away."

Malfoy took his pot from Professor Longbottom and gave Trista one last dirty look before returning to his group. Trista took the pot Professor Longbottom was holding out for her. She returned to the girls and sat the pot on the table.

"Were you talking to Malfoy?" Gertrude asked. The way her cheeks were turning red made it very clear that Gertrude had a crush on Malfoy.

"Unfortunately," Trista replied.

"Oh, I wish he would talk to me," Gertrude said wistfully.

Trista made a noise like a combination of a snort and a laugh, "Trust me, you don't want him talking to you," she said hoping to nip Gertrude's crush in the bud.

"Why not?" Gertrude asked.

"Well for one thing, he's a Slytherin and you're a Hufflepuff," Trista replied.

"So?" Gertrude replied, "Romeo and Juliet were from rival families and they fell in love."

"Who are Romeo and Juliet?" Trista asked, but before Gertrude could answer, Professor Longbottom spoke up again.

"Now that we all have our pots, I would like for the group leaders to send another member of your group up to collect seeds from me," Professor Longbottom said.

Trista sent Isabella up to get the seeds since she'd been the one who'd actually approached Trista before. Isabella got the seeds and returned to the group a moment later.

"They're bright pink!" She exclaimed holding the seeds out in her palms so that everyone could see.

"That's odd considering how ugly the plant will be once it starts growing," Allie observed.

"Yeah, it won't exactly be the most cheerful houseplant ever," Amy agreed.

The girls marveled over the pink seeds for a moment before Isabella realized something.

"How are we supposed to grow a plant in the basement? There are no windows in our dorm to let sunlight in!" she said.

"Oh no, that's right!" Gertrude lamented. "We can't grow snargaluffs without sunlight."

"Ask Professor Longbottom about it," Trista suggested.

"But we can't just announce that our dorm is in the basement," Allie said in a conspiratorial whisper, "That's supposed to be secret!"

Trista sighed and raised her hand to show the girls how to handle the situation. One would almost think that she was the one who'd been attending Hogwarts for years and those girls had only just transferred in.

"Yes, Miss Nott?" Professor Longbottom asked.

"Is there a spell or a charm to use to simulate sunlight?" Trista asked, "Our dorm doesn't allow in much sunlight, and it would also be helpful on rainy days when there is no sunlight at all."

"Good question, take twenty points," Professor Longbottom said, "The answer is yes. There is a spell to simulate sunlight, and if you'll all take out your wands and watch me, I'll teach it to you."

There was a rustle of movement as everyone took out their wands. Trista reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out hers. It was ten and a half inches long, made of cherry wood and contained a unicorn tail as its core.

"Now then, watch me," Professor Longbottom said. He held his wand up, "_Sol_," he said and a spot of yellow light appeared at the tip of his wand. He drew a clockwise circle in the air with the light, and when he reached the starting point again, he said "_Solis_," and the circle filled in with the yellow light and looked almost like a tiny sun.

"All right now you lot give it a go," Professor Longbottom instructed. There was a lot of noise as everyone copied his example.

"_Sol_," Trista said and saw the yellow light appear. She drew the circle and when she reached starting point, she said, "_Solis_." The yellow light filled in the circle she had drawn, and Trista noticed that not only did it look like a miniature sun, it was also pleasantly warm. She would have to keep this spell in mind on those cold winter days.

"Good, ten points to both houses," Professor Longbottom said. "And if you'll all look up here again, I'll teach you the counter-charm." He held his wand up again and said "_Vesper_," this time, a dark blue; almost black light appeared at the end of his wand. He drew an 'X' over his tiny sun and said "_Conticinium_" as he did so. The tiny sun faded almost instantly.

"Now you," Professor Longbottom said.

"_Vesper_," Trista said watching for the dark blue light. When it appeared, she drew the 'X' over her tiny sun and said "_Conticinium_." Her sun took a bit longer than Professor Longbottom's to fade away, but it faded more quickly than several others.

"Good, ten more points to each house," Professor Longbottom said. "Now then, let's talk about project some more. As I have already explained, you will be keeping your snargaluffs in your dormitories until the second week of November. During that time, you will care for your snargaluff, and each member of the group will keep a journal of the plant's progress."

"This seems sort of easy, doesn't it?" Isabella whispered to Amy.

"It really does," Amy agreed.

"Now then, after you've brought your snargaluffs to be plant in the greenhouse," Professor Longbottom continued, "Your group will have one week to compare your journals and write a report on your snargaluff. Are there any questions?"

Malfoy raised his hand, "Sir," he said without a drop of respect in his voice, "Sir, since this assignment is done outside of the classroom until November, we _are_ permitted not to attend class until then, aren't we?"

"No," Professor Longbottom replied frowning, "I never said we weren't going to study other plants or aspects of Herbology. I'm sorry if I failed to mention this before, but this project will count as half of your final exam."

There was an audible groan from the class after this announcement. The end of class bell rang, and the class gathered their things, grumbling as they left.

"What class do you have next, Trista?" Amy asked.

"History of Magic," Trista replied after checking her schedule.

"That's on the way to my Divination class," Amy replied, "I'll show you the way."

"Someone needs to take the seeds and the pot to our dorm," Trista pointed out, "Why don't you do it, Gertrude?"

"Why me?" Gertrude asked.

Trista beckoned Gertrude over to her and whispered, "Scorpius likes girls who are athletic. If he sees you running at a good pace, he might take interest in you."

"Really?" Gertrude asked her face lighting up in excitement.

"Really," Trista confirmed.

Gertrude grinned widely before turning away and running toward the castle. Trista had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Amy, who hadn't heard what Trista said, bemusedly watched Gertrude run.

"Something funny?" a new voice asked startling both girls.

Amy yelled out in shock, and Trista spun around. A boy had approached them quietly and was looking at Trista. At first glance, she thought he was rather nice looking with light brown hair, green eyes, and a slightly crooked smile. Then, however, she realized he was another Hufflepuff and was disappointed.

"I don't believe we've met," the boy said extending his hand, "I'm Patrick Fannon."

"Trista Nott," Trista replied taking his hand and shaking it without enthusiasm.

"Well, then," Patrick said and smiled; "Now that we're all introduced…Have a nice day."

_(Author's Notes: I meant to get this chapter up sooner, but well, I didn't. Oh well. I've only had one review so far! That's partly my own fault, though. I need to get out there and review others' stories. You know what they say, "Tit for tat" or whatever. Thanks for reading!)_


	5. Chapter Four: Because of Her Homework

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Four: Because of Her Homework_

Trista went to History of Magic and, unfortunately, Patrick was also taking NEWT level History of Magic. She sat in a seat in the back hoping he would stay up front, but he didn't. He gathered his things and walked back to join her.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. Trista shrugged noncommittally. Patrick sat down and grinned at her, "How do you like Hogwarts?"

"It's fine, I suppose," Trista replied.

"You'll get used to it," Patrick told her. "I'll help you."

"I don't think I need your help," Trista replied.

"How about a free sample of my help?" Patrick suggested, and then continued without waiting for a response, "See, this class is the best class for catching an extra hour of sleep if you stayed up late studying. Professor Binns doesn't pay much attention to us; he just drones on and on. So, all you have to do is stay up long enough to write down the subject matter of the day and then you can doze off until the bell."

"Oh," Trista replied, not really caring, "I think I'll just listen to Professor Binns, thanks. He might mention something that's not in the books. An interesting fact or something."

"I doubt that," Patrick replied as Professor Binns floated into the classroom to begin class. Patrick lowered his voice to a whisper, "You'll see what I mean."

Professor Binns took roll and then immediately began lecturing the class in most dull voice imaginable. Trista jotted down the subject matter and tried to listen carefully, but after only a few minutes she was bored out of her mind. She looked over to see that Patrick was resting his head on his arms. He turned his head toward her and grinned.

"Told you," he whispered.

"Are they all like this?" Trista whispered.

"Yep," Patrick confirmed, "Never even changes the tone of his voice, Professor Binns."

"So, what else should I know?" Trista asked.

"Well, that'll cost you," Patrick replied.

"Cost me?" Trista repeated, "Cost me what?"

"A date," Patrick whispered.

"A date?!" Trista whispered loudly and several people turned to look at her.

"Yes, a date," Patrick replied, "One date on the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Just that and I'll tell you all I know about surviving Hogwarts."

"How much can you really tell me?" Trista asked.

"Say 'yes' to the date and you'll find out," Patrick replied.

"Fine," Trista replied, "One date, that's it."

"Excellent," Patrick replied, grinning.

"But I won't hold your hand or anything like that," Trista whispered quickly.

"As you wish," Patrick replied.

Trista ignored Patrick for the rest of class and hurried to the Great Hall for lunch as soon as the bell rang. She squeezed herself between Gertrude and Isabella and began fixing herself a plate. Just as she was about to start eating, Patrick appeared.

"Ladies," he greeted them, and then turned to Trista, "Meet me in the common room after dinner, Trista. And don't forget about our date."

Flashing another quick grin, Patrick strolled away to join his friends. Trista felt herself go red with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"You're going on a date with Patrick Fannon?!" Allie exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah," Trista replied and shrugged.

"How'd you manage to get a date with him so quickly?" Allie asked, "He's the most popular boy in Hufflepuff!"

"He asked me," Trista replied, "He offered to help me learn about Hogwarts in exchange for one date."

"Wow," Amy said dreamily, "I wish I were you."

"No, you don't," Trista mumbled thinking of the secret hidden beneath her robes.

"Do you think we should talk about our Herbology project?" Isabella suggested, "I think we should each have a specific task to do."

"What do you mean?" Gertrude asked.

"Well, since Trista was the best at doing _Sol Solis_ and _Vesper Conticinium_, she should be in charge of providing sunlight for it," Isabella explained, "And you're really good at controlling your _Aguamenti_ spell, Amy, so you can water it."

"What about me?" Gertrude asked.

"You can make sure it has fresh, clean soil every week," Trista said, "And Allie can keep track of how much it grows."

"We all have to do that," Allie interjected.

"I know," Trista replied, "But if you keep track of the actual measurements, it'll save the rest of us time. We can put up a blank bit of parchment on the wall near the plant and you can record its measurements on that."

"Oh, okay," Allie agreed.

"That just leaves me," Isabella said. "What can I do?"

"Why don't you try to research ways to help it grow better?" Trista suggested, "I bet we'd get extra points if we had the biggest snargaluff."

"Oooh!" Isabella exclaimed, "Good idea, I'll see what I can find!"

With that, Isabella grabbed her bag and hurried out of the Great Hall. Trista and the other girls finished their lunches, but had no time to discuss the snargaluff any further because the end of lunch bell rang and they had to go their remaining classes.

--

At dinner that night, Professor Grinkleby stood up to make an unexpected speech. He raised his hand to signal for quiet and waited until the students had turned their attention to him.

"I am pleased to announce that this year we will be having a very special event," he said. "I would have announced this during my speech last night at the opening feast, but I wasn't certain it would be able to happen. However, I have since learned that it will."

"What is it already?" a boy from the Gryffindor table shouted.

"I'm getting to it, Mr. Potter," Grinkleby said. "This year, we will have a Halloween Costume Ball!"

The students cheered and Grinkleby waited for them to quiet down before continuing, "Before you all get too excited, this ball is for fifth years and higher only. I'm sorry," he continued as the fourth years and lower began complaining, "This is the only way the Ministry would allow us to have the ball. Now, those of you allowed and able to attend should listen carefully. As this is a Halloween Costume Ball, you will only be allowed to attend if you arrive in a costume. The costume may be anything of your choosing so long as it's tasteful. Madam Malkin's in Hogsmeade has agreed to set up a schedule so that any student wishing to attend can consult with her or one of her assistants about the costume they would like to wear. The schedule will be posted on the bulletin board in your house common rooms. Now, enjoy your meal."

As soon as Grinkleby was seated, the food appeared on the table and there was an outbreak of noise as everyone began talking about the ball.

"What sort of costume should I do?" Isabella asked speaking to no one in particular.

"Do you think I should ask Scorpius to go with me?" Gertrude asked throwing wistful glances in his direction.

"Are you going, Trista?" Amy asked.

"I don't know, maybe," Trista replied. The truth was that she was already trying to decide on a costume idea. This was probably her only opportunity to let her wings out without revealing her secret.

After she finished eating, Trista excused herself to go back to the Hufflepuff dorm. She sat in a large, overstuffed chair and waited for Patrick. He arrived a short while later, joking and laughing with his buddies. When he spotted Trista, he immediately walked over to her.

"Ah, so you remembered," he said pretending to be impressed.

"Of course I did," Trista replied.

"Well then, let's get started shall we?" Patrick replied, taking a seat in the chair next to hers.

"This had better be worth it, Fannon," Trista said threateningly, "Because if it isn't, I'll cancel the date."

"Oh, it's worth it don't worry," Patrick replied.

"We'll see," Trista said.

"Of course," Patrick replied and grinned. "Let's see, the first thing you should know is that the Slytherins think they're all that, but on average they have the lowest marks in the entire school. The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws are nice. Avoid Mr. Filch if at all possible-."

"Mr. Filch?" Trista interrupted.

"He's the caretaker," Patrick explained, "Angriest man ever, I do believe."

"Okay, go on," Trista said. "What about the teachers should I know?"

"Your experience with the teaching staff will vary from mine," Patrick replied. "You shouldn't try to pull a fast one on Professor Hinglestone, the Transfiguration teacher, she'll see right through it. Literally, she has a magic eye. Professor Longbottom is relatively lenient. If you forget your homework, he'll let you bring it by later. Professor Silfersked is our Head of House and the Charms teacher; well, you remember. He's nice, but a bit wishy-washy at times. Last year, he taught us how to make tea cups grow legs and walk across our desks and he demonstrated by making every tea cup grow legs and dance. Then, he started on a story about growing flowers in his garden. We ended up with only fifteen minutes to practice the charm. What? What's so funny?" He stopped because Trista was stifling a laugh.

"What do growing flowers have to do with tea cups walking?" Trista asked.

"Nothing as far as I know, but the man gets wishy-washy," Patrick replied.

"He seemed fine today," Trista said recalling the Charms lesson.

"Well, it's the first day and I said he gets like that at times," Patrick pointed out. "He's not like that always. Anyway," he continued, "Professor Sinistra, the Astrology teacher, is a bit hard of hearing, but she's a good teacher. She's patient and she'll help you have a problem. Professor Shields, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, is very strict. Don't show up late to his class or it's detention for a week."

"I don't plan on it," Trista said. She remembered how domineering Professor Shields seemed just while taking roll call.

"See that you don't," Patrick replied and continued, "Then there's Professor Moss, the Potions teacher. He leaves us to our own devices mostly. He only steps in if you're about to make a big mistake. So, that's all of the core classes, what electives are you taking?"

"None," Trista replied, "You've done all my classes."

"None?" Patrick repeated confused.

"Well, since I was homeschooled, I only studied the core lessons," Trista explained. "I never learned anything about the care of magical creatures or divination or anything like that. I don't even know what electives I'd be interested in."

"I see," Patrick replied. "Let's move on then, shall we?"

"I have homework I need to do," Trista replied, "Can we finish tomorrow?"

"It's a date," Patrick replied, grinning.

"No, it's not," Trista corrected him.

Trista picked up her bag and went back to the sixth year girls' dorm. She sat on her bed and started on her homework. She tried to concentrate on her reading for Defense, but her mind kept wandering back to the conversation she'd had with Patrick. She hadn't said much; mostly she just listened, but she…had she enjoyed herself? With a Muggleborn? Was that why she insisted on continuing it the next day? No, she decided, it was because she had homework to do.

It was because of her homework.


	6. Chapter Five: Defending Friends

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Five: Defending Friends._

Weeks passed and Trista found herself getting into a comfortable routine. She also found that Patrick's advice about the teachers and the advice about the school in general, had come in very handy. It didn't take her long before she felt as though she'd been going to Hogwarts since first year.

Despite the fact that Trista knew her way by now, she still walked with Amy and the other Hufflepuff girls to the classes they shared. She wasn't ready to call them friends, but they were familiar to her, which she found to be comforting. They had accepted her in spite of the fact that she had been rather cold to them on the first day unlike Scorpius whom Trista thought would be her friend despite her unfortunate placement.

When her alarm went off on the morning of the first Hogsmeade weekend, Trista automatically checked that her wings were hidden, turned off the alarm and went to take a shower. She knew the other girls would sleep for at least two more hours, so she would go have some breakfast and wait for them to wake up before doing _Sol Solis_ for their snargaluff.

It was on her way down to the Great Hall that Trista remembered her date with Patrick that day. She had partially hoped he would forget, but as much as he had reminded her in the past week, it was amazing that she had forgotten herself. She couldn't explain the feeling, but she found herself wanting to go and not wanting to go at the same time.

It was still rather early in the morning, so the only people she passed were the school ghosts. The Fat Friar floated along with her for a few moments trying to strike up a conversation, but Trista feigned drowsiness and said she couldn't have a discussion without coffee and breakfast.

"Of course I understand," the Fat Friar said happily, "Perhaps another time."

"I hope so," Trista replied, half lying.

The Fat Friar floated away just as Trista reached the Great Hall. There was no one else there, nor was there any food on the tables. Trista checked her watch, she was fifteen minutes early. Apparently, she had taken less time getting ready that day than usual.

Then, a sudden moment of panic hit her. Had she remembered to re-bind her wings after her shower? She reached back fearing that her hand would grasp feathers, but was relieved to grab a handful of robes. She started to breathe a sigh of relief when she realized that she probably hadn't needed to panic at all. Surely the Fat Friar would have said something. After all, Ghar'tanion never said a ghost could know her secret.

Exactly fifteen minutes after she had sat down, the food appeared on the table. Trista loved being the only one in the Great Hall when breakfast appeared; the food was always fresh and warm. It was charmed to stay that way so long as it remained in the Great Hall, but there was something about food that was just cooked that tasted so good.

Trista helped herself to eggs, bacon, a muffin, and some pumpkin juice. While she ate, she tried to imagine how the day would go. She had to consult with someone at Madam Malkin's about her costume at four o'clock, and she knew that Patrick had his consultation at two. They were allowed to leave for Hogsmeade as early as eleven, but Trista imagined they wouldn't leave until closer to noon. Trista made a mental note to eat again around ten-thirty so she wouldn't be hungry while in Hogsmeade.

Once she'd eaten her fill, Trista got up to return to the Hufflepuff dorm and wait for the other girls to wake up. On a sudden whim, she grabbed a napkin and tied up four muffins in it. The other girls would probably like to be lazy and eat breakfast in bed. Trista carried the napkin out of the Great Hall feeling good about herself.

Unfortunately, the feeling did last because as she left the Great Hall, she ran into Scorpius. He smirked at her in a condescending sort of way.

"Too embarrassed to be seen eating with her Hufflepuff friends?" Scorpius asked.

"No, I just woke up early," Trista replied, trying to step around him.

Scorpius stepped in her path, "I can't blame you of course," he said.

"Go away, Malfoy," Trista said, but he ignored her.

"I mean, I wouldn't want anyone to see me with such morons," he said, "In fact, I would just start eating in my dorm if I were in Hufflepuff. I wouldn't show my face to the school at all for that matter."

"Well, that's why I'm glad I'm not you," Trista said.

"What's that your carrying?" Scorpius asked, grabbing the napkin Trista had tied the muffins in. "Muffins! Oh, aren't you nice? Taking some breakfast up to your friends! What, can your Hufflepuff friends not navigate their way to breakfast anymore? Could it be possible that Hufflepuffs actually get stupider as time goes by?"

"Shut up!" Trista exclaimed, "Just because you're in Slytherin and they're not doesn't make you any better than them! I might remind you that Isabella scored higher than you on our last Herbology quiz and earned us fifty house points. They spend their time trying to improve themselves and helping anyone who needs it while you just sit there thinking you're perfect as you are."

"Defending your little friends now, are you?" Scorpius asked with an amused yet wicked gleam in his eye.

"I'm not…I wasn't," Trista stammered, feeling herself going red. She hadn't really intended to defend them, but…No, she was defending them, and they deserved it. They were all fifty times better than every stuck up Slytherin put together! "So what if I was?" Trista demanded.

"Now you're really one of them, Nott," Scorpius said, his voice icy cold.

"Good!" Trista exclaimed, "I'm glad I am. I'm glad I'm one of them and not one of your pathetic groupies!"

With that, Trista snatched the muffins back from Scorpius and stormed off to the Hufflepuff dorm. She heard Scorpius laughing behind her, but she held her head high as she walked. She would not allow him to get to her.

When Trista reached the Hufflepuff dorm, she said a quick good morning to the few people who were in the common room, and then went back to the sixth year girls' dorm. The other four girls were sitting up in their beds chatting sleepily about getting down to breakfast.

"Morning," Trista said cheerfully as she held up the napkin. "Hope you like muffins."

"Oh, you brought us muffins?" Amy asked, "Thank you!"

"I was up early, so I had an early breakfast," Trista explained as she passed out the muffins.

"Thanks!" the other girls said.

Trista performed _Sol Solaris_ on the snargaluff while the girls ate. She hadn't brought them any juice, but they were happy to drink water from the pitcher on the nightstand. After they ate, they decided to go down to the common room to sit and talk.

"Gertrude," Trista said, catching her attention as she was heading out the door, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Trista," Gertrude said.

They both sat on Trista's bed and Trista tried to think of the easiest way to do what she knew she had to do.

"Gertrude," Trista began, but then couldn't find the right words she needed.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Gertrude asked.

"Yes," Trista began slowly. Then, something inside her told her that she just needed to say it. "Don't ask Malfoy to the costume ball."

"What? Why?" Gertrude demanded, "Do you want to ask him? Trista, you know I like him!"

"I know, I know!" Trista said hastily.

"Then why can't I ask him?" Gertrude asked.

"Because you're too good for him," Trista replied. "When I was younger, Scorpius and I were…well, not friends, but we knew each other. We got along just fine, and when I came to Hogwarts and got placed into Hufflepuff, Scorpius suddenly turned on me. I thought he would be my friend since he knew me, but he thinks I'm suddenly lower class now."

"That's terrible!" Gertrude said. "You think he'd at least be pleasant toward you since you're a pureblood."

"Half," Trista corrected her, "My maternal grandfather was a Muggle."

"Oh," Gertrude said softly.

"Anyway, please, Gertrude. Don't ask Malfoy to the ball," Trista continued, "I'll help you find another date."

"Okay, I won't ask him. Not now that I've seen what he really is," Gertrude replied. "Thanks, Trista."

--

Trista walked to the Great Hall with the other girls whom she now considered her friends. It was just after ten-thirty and they decided to eat lunch together before they went to Hogsmeade. Trista wished she could go with them when they left after eating, but she had her date with Patrick and couldn't go back on her word.

"If he's boring, we'll come rescue you," Allie joked.

"I can't imagine he's very boring," Amy said, "He's Patrick. You're so lucky, Trista."

"I guess," Trista replied and shrugged.

"Ooh, a guessing game?" said a voice from behind Trista. She turned around and saw Patrick standing behind her grinning as usual.

"Hi, Patrick," Isabella said. "Sit with us."

"I just came to make sure Trista remembered our date in Hogsmeade," Patrick said, but he sat down anyway.

"I remember," Trista assured him.

"Good! What time is your consultation at Malkin's?" Patrick asked.

"Four," Trista replied.

"Mine's at two," Patrick said.

"I know," Trista replied.

"Well then, I'm going to grab a bit of lunch and then I'll be ready. Meet me at the entrance at eleven?" Patrick asked.

"Sure," Trista replied and noticed the other girls getting up. "Where are you going?"

"We're going ahead to Hogsmeade," Amy said.

"Aww, letting us get a head start on our date?" Patrick asked jokingly, "Thanks, girls. I mean, ladies!"

"Anytime!" Allie said and giggled.

Patrick grinned at Trista as he grabbed a plate and began piling food on it.

"The date doesn't start until we go to Hogsmeade," Trista said.

"Of course not," Patrick agreed, "For now, I'll just enjoy the pleasure of your company." He took a bite of his food and said indulgently, "Oh, Trista! Did you try the roast beef? It's so juicy and good!"

Trista tried to hold back a laugh, but she didn't try very hard. Patrick grinned at her as he took another bite. Trista suddenly found herself wishing that time would speed up.


	7. Chapter Six: The Date

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Six: The Date_

"Well," Patrick said putting his fork down dramatically, "No sense in us going our separate ways only to have to come back and meet at the entrance in ten minutes. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Trista replied.

Trista gave her permission form to Mr. Filch and she and Patrick started on their way to Hogsmeade. Trista remembered walking from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts when she first came, but she didn't remember the walk being quite so long. It felt like twenty minutes had passed before they finally reached Hogsmeade.

"So, we have a couple of hours until I have to consult about my costume," Patrick said checking his watch, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," Trista replied, "Why don't we look in the shops."

"Honeydukes it is!" Patrick exclaimed and started walking down the street.

"But you just ate," Trista pointed out, "Why are we going to the candy shop first?"

"Trista, Trista, Trista," Patrick said in a manner of someone explaining something to a child, "There's always room for candy. Besides, who says we have to eat it now?"

Trista shook her head and sighed, but she walked with Patrick to Honeydukes. When they reached the candy shop, the saw that it looked like every Hogwarts student that had come to Hogsmeade had crammed themselves inside. Trista started to suggest that they go somewhere else first, but Patrick insisted it would be fine and they fought their way inside.

"Come on," Patrick said, taking Trista's hand and pulling her through the crowd with him, "The sugar quills are back here!"

"Is that all we came here for?" Trista asked, "Sugar quills?"

"Of course not! We also came for the licorice wands, the chocoballs, the chocolate frogs, the jelly slugs, and, of course, the peppermint toads," Patrick replied.

"Oh, of course. How silly of me," Trista said.

Patrick loaded his arms with sweets, and then they went to the front to pay. Trista had looked at everything, but she ended up not buying anything. Perhaps if she didn't find anything in other shops, she'd come back and buy candy, but for now, she'd put it off.

When they left the candy shop, Patrick was carrying two bags. He asked Trista where she wanted to go next, and she suggested Scrivenshaft's because she wanted to buy her mother a nice new quill for Christmas.

"Mum likes collecting nice quills," she explained as they went into the shop, which wasn't crowded at all.

Trista found a beautiful Chilean Flamingo quill and a pot of golden ink, which she bought for one galleon, two sickles, and five knuts. The shop keeper was a kind old witch who wrapped up Trista's purchases with a flick of her wand.

When they left Scrivenshaft's, they visited the other stores until it was nearly two when they had to go down to Madam Malkin's for Patrick's costume consultation.

"What do you think I should go as?" Patrick asked.

"I don't know," Trista replied, "What do you want to go as?"

"A heroic hero!" Patrick joked, standing up tall and sticking his chest out.

Trista giggled, "Well, whatever you choose, don't do that anymore!" she said. "I'm going to run and use the bathroom while you go in."

"You'll come back, right?" Patrick asked. He actually sounded slightly worried she might not.

"I'll come back," Trista promised, "I'll be waiting out here when you're done."

"Okay, 'cause I was thinking after I finish here, we could go to the Three Broomsticks and, you know, talk until it's your turn," Patrick said. His joking manner was nowhere to be found. For the first time that day, he sounded nervous.

"That sounds nice," Trista replied, turning away, "I'll meet you out here!"

Trista went into the first shop she saw that wasn't crowded with students and asked to use the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door and took off her robes. Her wings were still bound behind her securely. Trista reached around to her back and grasped at her wings until she found a loose feather and plucked it out. She knew she would need this to help with her costume idea.

After that, she pulled her robes back on and put the feather in her pocket. Then, she picked up her bags and left the bathroom. On her way out, she thanked the shop owner and headed back to Madam Malkin's.

She waited outside Madam Malkin's for another ten minutes before Patrick emerged grinning from ear to ear.

"Make a decision then?" Trista asked.

"Oh yes," Patrick replied.

"What did you pick?" Trista asked.

"That's a surprise," Patrick replied and changed the subject, "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks."

They went down the street to the Three Broomsticks, which was crowded with students just like Honeydukes and Zonko's had been. They found a table and Patrick ordered each of them a butterbeer when Rosmerta came around to them.

It was while they waited for their drinks that they suddenly found themselves at a loss for things to say. Now it was starting to feel like a real date whereas before, it felt more like they were just two people hanging out and having fun. Trista hoped the drinks arrived soon so she would have something to do with her hands.

"So," Patrick began. He was looking around the pub as though he was hoping a topic of discussion would appear before him.

"So," Trista repeated, "Umm, are your parents…"

"They're Muggles," Patrick replied.

"Oh. Mine are both magic," Trista replied, "But Mum's a half-blood. Grandma Phae married a Muggle man, Kenneth Davis."

"I see," Patrick replied, "I'm the first magical person ever in my whole family. Mum's a jewelry designer and Dad runs a computer store."

"Computer?" Trista asked confused.

"Oh, it's a device Muggles use," Patrick explained. He went into slight detail explaining the main component of a computer and its uses including the internet and email.

"So, email is like owl post only faster?" Trista asked, hoping she had the concept right.

"It's practically instant," Patrick replied, and then added, "And a lot less messy."

"I imagine so!" Trista replied and laughed. "No birds making a mess everywhere with one of those computers!"

"That's right," Patrick replied and laughed along with her.

By that time, their drinks had finally arrived, and the awkward feeling that had overcome both of them was gone. While they drank, they continued to talk and get to know each other. They touched on subjects ranging from their classes and homework to their individual home lives. Trista learned that Patrick had younger twin sisters named Hannah and Haley, and she told Patrick about being home-schooled by her great-great-grandfather.

"Was it odd? I mean, being taught by a portrait?" Patrick asked.

"Well, it was the only method of being taught that I knew," Trista replied. "So, it wasn't really odd for me."

"Hogwarts must've been odd at first then," Patrick guessed.

"Not really, no," Trista replied. "Mum and Dad told me what to expect."

"I see," Patrick replied and grinned, "Well then, I'm glad you're adjusting well."

Before they realized it, it was time for them to head back to Madam Malkin's for Trista's costume consult. Trista started to pull out money for her drink, but Patrick insisted on paying. She waited for him to settle the bill, and then the two of them headed back outside.

"What are you going as?" Patrick asked as they walked.

"It's a secret," Trista replied smiling.

Patrick promised to wait for Trista outside the shop while she had her consult. Trista hurried into the shop and a witch who was seated at a small table waved her over. Trista sat in the chair across from the witch who then made a curtain appear around them so that they could discuss Trista's costume in private.

"Your name?" the witch asked.

"Trista Nott," Trista replied.

"Mm-hmm," the witch hummed as she jotted down Trista's name. "And what sort of costume were you thinking of?"

Trista reached into her pocket and pulled out the feather from her wings. She held it up and said, "Can you make a dress that matches this?"

"What an unusual color," the witch said, "May I see it?"

"Sure," Trista replied and handed the feather to the witch.

"Well," the witch said, "What sort of dress were you wanting?"

"Since it's a ball, I was thinking something like a ball gown," Trista replied.

The witch picked up her wand and tapped the feather. Then, she waved her wand around so fast that it took Trista a moment to realize that she was actually sketching out a design in midair. The wand must have copied the color of her feather, because it was drawing in that color.

"There, how does that look?" the witch asked when she was finished.

"That's perfect!" Trista gushed.

"Wonderful," the witch replied, "Will you excuse me for just a moment?"

"Okay," Trista replied.

The witch left and returned a few moments later carrying a small box. After she sat down, she opened the box. Inside were tiny crystal beads in two separate compartments. One compartment had pink beads that were just a shade or two darker than the feather, and the other had white beats.

"If you'd like, we can work these into your dress. I think they'd go nicely," the witch said.

"Ooh, yes," Trista replied.

"Good, good! Now then, if you're just going to wear a ball gown, you might consider a masquerade mask to go with it," the witch suggested.

As she spoke, she set down the feather and sprinkled a few of the pink and white beads on it. Then, she tapped it with her wand transfiguring it into a simple yet elegant Venetian eye mask. It was the same color as the feathers, and it was trimmed along the edges with tiny downy feathers. The beads had formed an intricate design up the bridge of the nose and across the brow bone.

"There now, what do you think?" the witch asked, holding up the mask for Trista to see.

"I…it's beautiful!" Trista gushed.

"I'm glad you think so," the witch replied and handed the mask to Trista. "Your costume gown will go well with this mask. It will be sent to you in approximately two weeks. If you'll take this receipt to the witch at the front, you can pay there."

"Can I keep the mask now?" Trista asked, hoping that the witch would say yes.

"Of course," the witch replied, "It's a little something to help you look forward to your costume."

"Thank you," Trista replied.

Trista paid for her costume and the mask and headed outside to find Patrick. As she looked for him, she slid the mask into her pocket to keep it hidden. She did want to her costume secret too, after all.

When she spotted Patrick, she hurried over to him grinning much like he did. While she was consulting about her costume, he had gone into the Three Broomsticks again and ordered each of them a large sweet roll and a bottle of butterbeer. Trista took what Patrick offered to her gratefully; she hadn't realized she was so hungry until she saw the food.

"Did you get your costume all worked out?" Patrick asked as they ate and walked.

"Yes," Trista replied.

"And…?" Patrick prompted her.

"And what?" Trista asked.

"What's your costume?" Patrick asked.

"That's a secret," Trista replied.

Patrick grinned at Trista and took the last bite of his sweet roll. He washed it down with the last drink from his butterbeer and waited for Trista to finish before he spoke again.

"Umm, Trista?" Patrick asked. Suddenly he sounded nervous again.

"Yeah?" Trista replied.

"Well, I had a good time with you today," Patrick began.

"I had a good time too," Trista cut in. "Sorry, go on."

"I really did," Patrick reiterated, "I had a really good time. So, I was wondering if you'd…maybe…like to go to the Halloween Ball with me?"

Trista looked at Patrick while she considered. After a moment, she smiled, "Sure, that sounds great," she said.

Patrick grinned and looked somewhat relieved. They decided that it was a good time to head back to Hogwarts. On the walk back, they held hands.


	8. Chapter Seven: The Disheartening Letter

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Seven: The Disheartening Letter._

The next morning, Trista woke at her usual early hour and went about her daily routine as usual. She showered, wrapped her wings, dressed, and fixed her hair. The only thing that was different was that she was smiling the entire time. The memory of the previous day made her very spirit giddy.

Still smiling, Trista quietly crept out of the dorm room and headed down to eat breakfast. She had to exercise restraint so that she didn't start skipping, but she was smiling all the while. Not even Scorpius Malfoy could ruin her good mood.

She had fortunate timing that morning, because just as Trista entered the Great Hall, breakfast appeared on the tables. She sat down about halfway up the Hufflepuff table and helped herself to a bit of everything. It seemed giddiness made her hungry.

"What now, Nott?" Scorpius Malfoy said appearing behind her and looking down at the food scraps on her plate. The smile temporarily vacated Trista's face. "Are you that upset you're such a loser Hufflepuff? Are you going to start eating your feelings like Hollows does?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Trista replied, "If you were half the person Gertrude is…"

"If?" Malfoy interrupted sarcastically. "Are you looking at the same girl I am? You should have seen her trying out for Quidditch; I thought the broom was going to break right underneath her! She could barely get off the ground, the fat cow."

In an instant Trista had jumped to her feet and pulled out her wand. She pointed it threateningly in Malfoy's face and his cruel laughter stopped.

"You don't have the guts," Malfoy said, but his voice suggested that he thought maybe she did have the guts. "You wouldn't dare try to hex me."

Trista muttered something under her breath and then sighed and lowered her wand. Malfoy smirked victoriously and strutted over to the Slytherin table where he sat down to eat. Trista smiled sarcastically at him and then left the Great Hall to go down to the Hufflepuff common room to work on her homework.

When she reached the Hufflepuff dormitories, Trista was greeted by an excited Isabella who was still in her pajamas. Isabella grabbed Trista's arm and pulled her to a secluded corner. It was completely pointless since no one else was up, but Trista was too confused by Isabella's actions to protest.

"What is it?" Trista asked curiously.

"I've figured out how to make out snargaluff grow bigger _and_ faster!" Isabella exclaimed.

"Really, how?" Trista asked.

"I asked Professor Moss about it, and he told me about a potion called '_Miracula Exubero_'," Isabella explained. "He said that if we add a drop of it every day to our snargaluff, we'd have to take it to the greenhouse within a week!"

"Wow, that's amazing!" Trista replied, "Where do we get some? Do you think Professor Longbottom has any?"

"Professor Moss showed me the recipe for it. It looks really simple, I could make it," Isabella replied.

"You should ask him to give you extra credit for it," Trista suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Isabella replied thoughtfully. "I'm going to go have breakfast and then go see if he'll let me make it today."

"I hope he does," Trista replied.

"Me too, see ya!" Isabella said and dashed back to the sixth year girls' dorm to get ready.

Trista grinned as she headed back to the dorm herself to get her book bag. If Isabella successfully made the potion and they had to take their snargaluff in early, it was possible they'd each get some extra credit and earn house points for putting so much thought and effort into their project.

She returned to the common room with her book bag in tow and sat at a table near the fireplace. Her potions and transfiguration homework was already finished, so she just had to do her charms assignment and some reading for DADA. She decided to do charms first and looked at the assignment.

_Practice the Refilling Charm both verbally and nonverbally. Describe which method produced the best results and explain why you think the other method did not._

Trista stood up and walked over to the nearest water pitcher and poured herself a small bit. If she was going to perform a refilling charm, she'd have to have something to refill. She carried her glass of water back to her table and drank it.

She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the now empty glass, "_Repleo_," she said. The glass refilled with water, and it looked to be the same amount that she'd poured in there from the pitcher. Satisfied with the results, Trista drank that water and set the glass back down to do it nonverbally.

She pointed her wand at the glass once again and focused her concentration on refilling the glass. _Repleo_, she thought, and the glass began to fill with water. It reached the same point where she'd originally poured to and where the verbal attempt stopped, so Trista lowered her wand and reached for the glass. However, she realized that water was still filling up the glass at a much faster rate than she'd expected. Any second now it would overflow and ruin her notes.

In a panic, Trista pushed her books to the floor and desperately began to think of how to stop the water. It was now flowing out of the glass and onto the table.

"Oh no, oh no!" Trista said anxiously and then did the first thing that came to mind. She pointed her wand at the glass and cried, "_Impedimenta_!"

The water stopped flowing, but the mess was still there. Trista used her wand to siphon up the excess and sighed. Well, now she knew which method hadn't worked out the best, and she had to figure out why.

As she was trying to figure it out, Patrick came out of the sixth year boys' dorm and came over to her table. The memory of the previous day came over Trista and she smiled at him temporarily forgetting her unfortunate attempt at nonverbally refill a glass of water.

"Hi," she said.

"Good morning," Patrick replied. "Working on your charms homework?"

"Yes, I'm not very good at nonverbal spells," Trista confessed.

"Why not?" Patrick asked.

"I don't know," Trista replied, "I did the refilling charm nonverbally, and it started fine, but then it didn't stop when I lowered my wand and water got everywhere. I only just got my books and notes out of the way."

"I see," Patrick replied and sat in the seat next to Trista. He pointed his wand at the glass and an instant later, it filled with water to the point where Trista had originally filled it. When he lowered his wand, the water didn't continue.

"How'd you do that?" Trista asked.

Patrick shrugged, "I just stopped thinking about refilling the glass."

"How'd you just stop thinking about it? I stopped thinking about it and it kept going!" Trista exclaimed.

"I thought about something else as soon as I'd though the charm," Patrick replied.

Trista frowned slightly, "Let me try," she said and handed Patrick the glass.

"Cheers," Patrick said before drinking the water.

Trista performed the spell nonverbally again and as soon as she'd thought _repleo_, she turned her thoughts away from anything to do with refilling at all. She thought about unicorns and kneazles, concentrating on them until she felt it was safe to check her glass. She hadn't heard Patrick yell that it was overflowing, so maybe she'd been successful. She looked at the glass only to discover that it was gone. How on earth had she managed to banish the glass instead of refilling it?

She turned to Patrick somewhat worried that she would get in trouble for banishing a glass that belonged to the school. However, when she turned, she saw that Patrick had the glass and he was drinking from it. He caught her looking and lowered the glass grinning guiltily

"Sorry," he said, "Got thirsty."

"Did it work?" Trista asked hopefully.

"Oh yes," Patrick replied and held the glass out, "Do it again."

______________________________________________________________________________

Trista walked to the Great Hall with Patrick for lunch, and they sat together near the end of the table. They talked quietly as they started fixing their plates, but the conversation died down when they actually started eating. It wasn't until Isabella showed up with Amy, Gertrude, and Allie that there was any talking at all.

"I've made it," Trista said excitedly and pulled a small bottle out of her robes. In it was an ugly liquid that was somewhere between green and brown in color.

"Made what?" Patrick asked a look of revulsion on his face.

"We're not telling you," Isabella replied.

"Trista will, won't you?" Patrick replied and looked at Trista.

"No I won't," Trista replied. "It's a secret."

"It's a love potion isn't it?" Patrick joked, "Each of you girls wants me to be in love with you, so you're going to spike my pumpkin juice while I'm not looking."

"We'd be a little more discreet if it were," Allie replied.

Patrick fake sighed, "Fine, I'll turn away and pretend like I don't know what's going on."

"Ooh, the post is arriving," Gertrude said, pointing at the owls that were now flying into the Great Hall.

The arrival of the post ended the discussion of the substance in the bottle. Trista hadn't heard anything from her parents since she'd sent them a letter at the beginning of the term, so it came as a slight shock to her when a brown screech owl dropped a letter on her head. She took it and offered the owl a bit of bread as she looked at it.

"It's a letter from my Mum," she said and ripped the envelope opened.

_Dear Trista,_

_It came as quite a shock to your father and me when we received your first letter and learned that you were placed in Hufflepuff. I'm sure Hufflepuff is a fine house for muggleborns and near-squibs, but you were raised to be a Slytherin. I hope that you have at least managed to make friends with the Slytherins._

_We're not upset with you, dear; please don't think that we are. We knew that whichever house you were put in would be the one you were stuck with. However, we were certain that that house would be Slytherin. You'll just have to make do in Hufflepuff, I suppose._

_I'm sorry that it took me song to write you, but I needed some time to collect my thoughts and feelings about all of this. We had dinner with the Malfoys a week after term started, and you couldn't imagine the superior, condescending looks Draco and Astoria gave us. They now think that they're better than us because you were put in Hufflepuff._

_We know it's not your fault, you told us what the Sorting Hat did. However, we do feel that you should have tried harder to convince Headmaster Grinkleby to let you try the hat on again. It wouldn't have done you any good, but a Slytherin never gives up without traveling all possible avenues._

_All my love,_

_Mom_

_P.S. Your father and I have decided to go visit your Aunt Deidre in her manor outside Yorkshire and stay for the rest of the year. You'll need to sign up to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas._

Trista stared at the letter she'd just read while her friends chatted around her. It made Trista feel sick to her stomach; there was such an accusatory tone to the letter. She folded the letter and put it away in an inside pocket of her robe.

Her parents were ashamed of her and didn't want her coming home for Christmas just because she didn't get into Slytherin, which wasn't her fault. She had tried to get it changed; didn't her parents believe that she did?

"Is everything all right, Trista?" Isabella asked from what seemed like very far away.

"What?" Trista asked. "Oh, yes, everything's fine. I just remembered I need to go finish my Potions assignment."

Trista pushed her plate away and jumped up from the table before anyone could respond. She didn't want any sort of sympathy from them over this. Not because they were Hufflepuffs and she was supposed to be Slytherin, but because she was a Hufflepuff too and she considered them friends. If they knew how badly she'd wanted to be in Slytherin, how mean she'd intended to be to them…Well, they'd probably never speak to her again. And what would Patrick think?

After saying a hurried goodbye, Trista left the Great Hall as quickly as possible without rousing suspicions in her friends. She had just made it to the stairs to the basement when she heard Patrick calling for her. She tried to pretend like she didn't hear him, but he caught up with her anyway.

"Hey," he said casually.

"Hey," Trista replied glumly.

"Are you okay? You seem kind of down suddenly," Patrick said.

"I'm fine, I just have to finish my Potions homework," Trista lied.

"You said earlier you were done with it," Patrick replied.

"Well, I'm not!" Trista exclaimed somewhat angrily. "I'm not done with it. I'm redoing it! I'm going to trash it and start all over! I'm…"

She stopped short at the look on Patrick's face. His usual grin was replaced by a look of shock. It was all too much. He had only been trying to make sure she was okay, and she blew up at him. This was a time when she needed a friend and she was trying to push him away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "It's this letter…"

"What's it say?" Patrick asked gently.

"My parents are ashamed of me because I didn't get into Slytherin," Trista replied, her voice shaking slightly. She willed herself not to start tearing up as she continued, "They don't even want me to come home for Christmas."

"Just because you didn't get into Slytherin?" Patrick asked, "Do they even know what Slytherin is like."

"They were both in Slytherin," Trista replied.

"Oh," Patrick replied. "Don't let it get you down, you can't change the house you're in, and I'm glad you're in Hufflepuff and not Slytherin. Besides, we all know that after we leave Hogwarts everyone'll think that Hufflepuff was the greatest house ever and then everyone'll want to be in it."

Trista laughed and felt better. "Please don't tell the girls about this," she said.

"Cross my heart," Patrick replied and drew an 'x' over his heart. "Now, tell me what you're wearing to the Costume Ball."

Trista smiled softy and shook her head.


	9. Chapter Eight: A Date of the Entire Day

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Eight: A Date of the Entire Day_

In the three weeks since receiving the letter from her parents, things had gone rather well for Trista. Isabella's _Miracula Exubero_ had worked wonders, and they'd had to take their snargaluff down to greenhouse eleven the previous morning. Professor Longbottom had been so shocked and impressed that he gave them each fifty points in both extra credit and house points. However, it was the look on Scorpius Malfoy's face when Professor Longbottom praised their extra effort in class that really made Trista feel good.

Now there was only one day until the Halloween Costume Ball. Everyone had received their costumes from Madam Malkin's, and the ball was the only topic of discussion in the corridors and at the tables in the Great Hall. Trista's friends had already tried on and modeled their costumes, but when they asked Trista to show them hers, she insisted that she wanted it to be a surprise.

Her costume had turned out beautifully. It was a ball gown from an older era, but Trista couldn't really put her finger on which one. The color was perfect; it matched the feathers on her wings and had a pearly sheen to it as well. The crystal beads the lady at the shop had showed her were embroidered into loops near the hemline of the skirt, and they were also embroidered into an intricate pattern on the bodice. The shop had even sent a pair of shoes to go with the dress.

Trista's nerves did funny things whenever someone brought up the ball. When it was one of the girls, she felt very excited about it, but when it was Patrick she felt nervous. This would be their second official date even though they had gone to the last Hogsmeade weekend together and were spending nearly all their free time with one another.

The ball was to be two days before Halloween since Halloween was on a Monday and the school didn't want to interrupt classes for a ball. The students didn't mind much at all because that meant that the ball could last longer and everyone could sleep in the next day. There was even a rumor going around the halls that there was to be a costume contest and the winner would receive a thousand galleons, but Trista doubted that was true.

Trista was currently working on her weekend homework to get the ball off her mind. She sat down to write up her potions essay, and even though her thoughts occasionally drifted to her costume, she was able to finish her essay rather quickly. She did her charms homework after that, and then she did her History of Magic essay. She didn't take a break from her homework until Gertrude interrupted her while she was doing her Transfiguration homework.

"Trista?" Gertrude asked, "Are you coming to dinner?"

"What?" Trista asked, "Is it dinner time already?"

"Yeah," Gertrude replied.

"Goodness, I got so caught up in getting my homework done," Trista muttered as she put her things away.

"Why are you doing your homework now anyway?" Gertrude asked.

"Well, I won't have time tomorrow, and I don't want to rush it on Sunday," Trista replied.

"Oh," Gertrude replied. "Well, shall we go to dinner then?"

"Yeah, let's go," Trista replied.

Trista and Gertrude talked on the way to the Great Hall, and when they got there, Trista sat next to Patrick and fixed herself a plate. Patrick's friends, the other sixth year boys, had joined them, so it was like the sixth year Hufflepuffs had formed a club. The topic of discussion was, of course, the costume ball, so Trista elected to stay out of it lest her friends try to trick her into telling them about her costume.

"Come on, Trista, at least give us a clue," Amy begged.

Trista put a forkful of mashed potato in her mouth and shook her head. Her friends sighed dramatically.

"I'm starting to think I should have kept my costume a secret too," Allie said.

"You'll all see it tomorrow night," Trista assured them.

Trista finished her meal and then excused herself by claiming she wanted to go finish her homework. Honestly she was going to go try and figure out how to do her hair for the ball. It had to be done in such a way that it complemented her wings instead of competing with them.

She reached the Hufflepuff dorm and, after giving the bees the password (clover honey), she went up to the sixth year girls' dorm and stood before the floor length mirror. She charmed her hair in several different styles and tried to imagine how they would look with her wings and the style of dress. When she'd finally decided on a hairstyle that she thought would work, Trista finished her homework and then relaxed and began really looking forward to the ball.

______________________________________________________________________________

When Trista woke up the following morning, she swore she could feel a buzz of energy in the air. Perhaps it truly was there, the excited energy of the students going to the ball, or perhaps it was all just her excitement at going to the ball. Whatever it was, it made Trista feel nervous and excited all at once. She checked her bindings, but knowing that the other Hufflepuffs were still asleep, she didn't worry too much about them, and then went into the bathroom for her shower.

She bathed especially carefully that morning and risked a few extra minutes with her wings exposed to apply a nice smelling lotion to her skin. After that, she wrapped her wings taking care not to wrap them too tightly. They were an integral part of her costume after all; they needed to look their best. She dressed in a set of plain robes and went down to the common room to wait for breakfast time

Much to her surprise, Patrick of all people was already up and sitting in one of the overstuffed yellow chairs. He grinned at her and jumped up when she came into the common room.

"Good morning, Patrick," Trista said, "You're up awfully early."

"I know; who knew five a.m. even existed?" Patrick joked.

"I was going to go down to breakfast soon," Trista said after chuckling softly at his joke, "Do you want to come with me?"

"Well," Patrick began, "Actually, I was sort of hoping we could make a date of the entire day. You know, not just going to the ball together."

"Oh," Trista replied completely surprised by Patrick's idea. "I…yes, that sounds great!"

"So, when does breakfast start exactly?" Patrick asked.

"Five-thirty," Trista replied.

"Five-thirty? Who's up then?" Patrick replied, shocked by breakfast's early appearance.

"I am," Trista pointed out. "And a few of the teachers."

"Well, by the time we get down there, it should be on the tables," Patrick said after checking his watch. "Want to go now?"

"Sure," Trista replied.

"Okay, let me grab something," Patrick replied

He grabbed a satchel off the back of the chair he'd been sitting in. He slung it over his shoulder and then held his hand out. Trista smiled shyly and took his hand; it was soft and warm, and it seemed like it was made especially for holding her hand.

They didn't say anything as they walked hand in hand up to the main floor of the castle and into the Great Hall. They were a few minutes early for breakfast, so they sat at the end of the Hufflepuff table nearest to the doors.

"It's so different," Patrick observed.

"I know," Trista replied, "It's quiet."

"Yeah, I mean, it's nice really," Patrick replied. "Is this why you're always up this early?"

"Yeah, and I'm used to getting up this early," Trista replied. "I've been doing it since I was nine."

"Nine?" Patrick repeated, "Wow. Why?"

"I don't know, I just have," Trista lied, and as she said it, breakfast appeared on the tables. "Oh, good, we can eat now. What are you doing?"

Patrick was putting food into the satchel he'd brought with him. He grinned at her, but didn't reply. Confused, but not overly concerned by his behavior, Trista picked up a plate and looked at the food spread on the table. However, just as she reached for a piece of toast, Patrick took the plate from her.

"Hey, I'm hungry," she said, frowning at him.

"I know, that's why I've got the food in here," he replied patting the now full satchel.

"What good is it in there?" Trista asked.

"I'm sure it'll be fine when we take it out," Patrick replied.

"And when will we take it out?" Trista asked.

"When we find where we're going to eat," Patrick replied, "Come on."

Trista followed Patrick back out of the Great Hall unsure of where he was going or what he was doing. She followed him up the marble steps to the first floor, watched him look around, and then followed him back down them and out the front doors.

The morning air was chilly and slightly wet; a thick fog lay over the school grounds. Trista wished she'd known she would possibly be eating outside that morning; she would have brought a light cloak.

Patrick led the way to the courtyard and through it, and then turned toward the greenhouses. They reached greenhouse number seven, but when Patrick looked at it, he shook his head and turned back. They returned to the courtyard when Patrick had Trista wait just outside with her back to the entrance so she couldn't see what he was doing.

"Okay, you can turn around now," Patrick said a few minutes later.

Trista turned around and gasped. He had set up a small breakfast picnic for them in the middle of the courtyard. The food he'd put into his bag was spread out on a blanket, and he'd even transfigured a couple of rocks into pillows for them to sit on. Patrick smiled at her and walked over offering his hand again, which Trista took. They walked back to the blanket and sat down.

"This is…amazing, Patrick," Trista gushed, "How did you think of this?"

Patrick shrugged, "I thought it would be fun," he replied.

"You know, we could get into trouble if we get caught," Trista replied with a smile.

"Well, that's half the fun," Patrick replied. "But really, what's the worse that'll happen? We'll get yelled at, a few points taken away, and maybe a detention. I think it'll be worth it."

"Yeah, it would," Trista agreed.

"Well, have a seat, Trista," Patrick said, "I just have one more thing to do." He reached into the pocket of the jeans he was wearing and when he pulled his hand out, he had his fist closed around something.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Trista replied with a giggle, "Ready for what?"

"This!" he exclaimed and threw whatever was in his hand into the air.

It turned out to be seeds; puffapod seeds to be exact. They showered down around the two of them and burst into pretty pink flowers when they hit the ground. A few landed on their heads, but they both laughed and left them alone. The ground around them was littered with pink flowers that speckled the gray stone floor of the courtyard with color.

"Where did you get them?" Trista asked as they started to eat.

"The seeds?" Patrick asked, and Trista nodded, "Ordered them, they're quite cheap. I usual get some for my younger sister, she likes them. She says they're like these cracker snaps we played with when we were in America for vacation a few summers ago. Only they're not loud and they leave flowers behind instead of bits of paper."

"What are cracker snaps?" Trista asked.

"Not sure really," Patrick replied. "They're these little things you throw on the ground and they make a loud popping noise."

"Well, that doesn't sound very fun," Trista replied.

"It's not. Don't tell my sister, but I like these better too," Patrick replied.

"How old is your sister?" Trista asked.

"She's almost eleven," Patrick replied. "She's starting secondary school next year."

"Oh, so she's not…" Trista began, but her voice trailed off when she remembered Patrick was a Muggleborn. It was entirely possible that his sister was a Muggle.

"No," Patrick replied. "Well, as far as we know she's not. Strange things don't happen around her like they did me. Though, I suppose if she gets a letter in the summer, we'll know for sure."

Trista didn't know how to respond, so she shifted the subject slightly. "I'm an only child," she said.

"What's it like?" Patrick asked.

Trista shrugged, "I don't know really," she replied. "It was lonely at times, not having anyone to play with, but that also meant I never had to share my things or any secrets."

"Do you have any secrets?" Patrick asked grinning mischievously at her.

"Yes," Trista said and laughed, "We all do."

"What's your secret?" Patrick said.

"I can't tell you," Trista replied.

"Aww, you're no fun," Patrick replied. "Well, it looks like we're done. Shall we go inside?"

"Sure," Trista replied.

They cleaned up where they had sat and transfigured the pillows back into rocks before they headed back inside. It was still very early, so most students were still in bed, and only a handful of teachers would be up.

Luckily, when they got back inside, there were no teachers to be seen. They went back down to the Hufflepuff dormitory where they thought they would have the common room to themselves for a while. However, when they got there, a few other Hufflepuffs were milling about the common room. Trista and Patrick looked at each other and sighed and smiled.


	10. Chapter Nine: The Halloween Costume Ball

_**Disclaimer**__: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. They are used without permission, and no money is being made from this story. All original characters are my creation_.

**Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned**

_Chapter Nine: The Halloween Costume Ball_

"I should really go get ready," Trista said.

"Oh, but Trista," Patrick fake-whined, "We're having so much fun."

"I know," Trista replied, "And I'm sorry, but I really should get ready."

"I don't understand why you girls need three hours to get ready," Patrick replied.

Trista smiled and shrugged before hurrying to the sixth year girls' dorm to get ready. She hopped into the shower again and washed from head to toe. The other girls were probably going to come in and start getting ready too, so Trista had to hurry this shower. She just couldn't risk being seen with her wings out without being in her costume gown.

As soon as her shower was done, Trista scrambled into her underwear and applied lotion to her skin as quickly as she could. Then, she used her wand to dry her hair, but did nothing else to it at the moment. Now, all she had to do was get into her gown before the other girls came in and-.

Oh no.

In a moment of panic Trista realized that she had forgotten to bring her gown into the bathroom with her. It was hanging in her wardrobe where she had stashed it away under an invisibility spell so the other girls wouldn't see it. Now she either had to risk her secret being revealed or wrap her wings up, dress in plain robes, and come up with a lame excuse not to go to the ball. And at the last minute, no less.

Trista had to think fast; she could wrap her wings and put on plain robes long enough to go get the gown. That was a good idea, but there was still the matter of getting into it before the girls came in. If they saw here halfway into her gown with her wings protruding from her back, they would figure out her secret. No, she had to be in that gown by the time they came in so she could tell them that the wings are part of the costume.

Seeming to have no other choice, Trista carefully pulled open the bathroom door and peeked out. The girls weren't back yet, thankfully, so if she hurried, she could grab the gown and get back into the bathroom before they did get back. Assuming, of course, that they weren't in the common room at that very moment.

Trista took a deep breath and dashed out of the bathroom and to her wardrobe. She threw it open, took the invisibility spell off her gown, grabbed it, and ran back to the bathroom. She hadn't timed herself, but as she took a short moment to catch her breath, Trista guessed she had done it all in fewer than ten seconds.

There was no time for dwelling on it, however. Trista hung the gown up on a hook used for hanging bathrobes or towels with the back side facing out. She pulled out a wand and cast a charm that would allow the material on the back of the gown to become intangible temporarily. That would allow her wings to go through without having to rip the gown. The charm would wear off after about ten minutes, so Trista hoped she could be in the gown within that amount of time.

When she pulled the dress on, Trista felt like a completely different person. Having an excuse to have her wings out and let people see them was a freedom she hadn't experienced in a long time. She smiled to herself and walked over to the vanity to figure out how to do her hair.

"Oh, Trista!" a voice gushed.

Trista spun around, her eyes wide and panic rushing through her when she saw Isabella standing there with her mouth gaping. Was the intangibility charm still working? Did Isabella know her secret?

_No, idiot, _a voice in Trista's head said, _Intangibility and invisibility are two different things._

Trista relaxed slightly, "Hey, Isa," she said. "I was really hoping I would be ready before anyone saw."

"I was coming up to take a shower," Isabella began, "I-but-you. Wow."

"Well, now that you're here, I could use help deciding what to do with my hair," Trista replied.

"I'll go get the other girls," Isabella said.

"Do you have enough time?" Trista asked.

"Oh, sure," Isabella replied.

Isabella turned and disappeared from the bathroom and returned a few moments later with the other girls in tow. They all gasped at Trista who, instead of feeling more and more confident, began to feel nervous. What if they hadn't gasped positively? What if something was wrong with her gown? What if she had put an invisibility charm on it by accident?

"Trista needs our help," Isabella said, "What should she do with her hair?"

Trista breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that she indeed had not put an invisibility charm on the gown. The other girls surrounded her and began to discuss ideas about her hair.

"I appreciate this," Trista said, "But if you need to get ready, then by all means go do so. I can manage this."

"Trista, this costume is far too beautiful to just wear any old hairstyle with," Allie said.

"Right," Gertrude agreed, "We have to find the perfect hairstyle for this."

The girls set to work taking turns waving their wands around Trista's head in a myriad of styles. Up do's, curls, straightened, chignons, twists, tendrils, waves all one right after another. Trista turned them all down; she did want to have the perfect hairstyle for this too after all.

"Let me try one more," Amy said and waved her wand.

It was Trista's turn to gasp as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had been done in a half-up half-down romantic style with soft curls cascading down her back that complemented the gown and her wings perfectly.

"What about this," Isabella began, but Trista had to cut her off.

"No," she said holding her hand up, "This is it. This is perfect. Thank you so much! Now, please, go get ready. I want to see your costumes!"

"Well then," Isabella replied with a smile, "I guess that all that's left is your make-up. We can help you again when we're down showering."

"I can handle that," Trista replied with a smile.

While the other girls showered, Trista turned back to the mirror. She had planned from the beginning to go simple with her makeup. A natural look that would highlight her features without taking away from the gown. She applied her foundation and powder first followed by blush and lipstick. Then she applied eye shadow, liner, and mascara after using a charm to curl her eyelashes.

Trista went back into the dorm room to get the mask and brought it into the bathroom. She sat in front of the mirror and held it up near her face without actually putting it on. The effect of the whole thing put together was amazing. If the gown alone made her feel like a different person, the entire costume made her feel…special. Like she would turn heads and make people wonder who the mysterious girl no one had ever seen before was.

After the other girls had finished their showers and were in their costumes, Trista had her chance to gasp appreciatively. They had each chosen a costume that not only looked good, but also suited their personality. Trista helped as they all decided how to do their hair and makeup.

And then it was time.

It was time to go down to the common room to meet Patrick and see his costume. Trista's heart began to flutter in nervousness, and she felt suddenly ill.

"Are you all right, Trista?" Isabella asked.

"Fine," Trista replied, "Just nervous. I've never been to school ball."

"You'll be fine," Isabella reassured her.

"Yeah, you look amazing," Allie added.

"Thanks," Trista replied, "You guys look really great too."

"Yeah, but you, you look beyond great," Allie replied.

"I think maybe we should stand behind Patrick in case he faints," Amy teased.

"Stop it, you guys. He wouldn't faint," Trista replied laughing.

"You know what?" Gertrude said changing the subject, "This is one of those times when you can't just go downstairs like a normal day. In that costume, you have to be introduced."

"Oh, she's right," Allie replied, "Like in the movies when the guy comes to pick up the girl for the dance and she walks down the stairs and…" her voice trailed off into a sigh.

"What's a movie?" Trista asked.

"We'll tell you later," Isabella promised and guided Trista to the door. "Now, you just wait here until we give you the signal and. - Oh, put your mask on. – Then, when we give you the signal, come out."

"What's the signal?" Trista asked.

"You'll know it," Isabella replied.

"Okay," Trista replied and stood next to the door as her friends filed out and went to the common room.

She waited and listened for the signal as the fluttering in her heart took on a new meaning. There was still nervousness there, but now she felt more excited than nervous. Maybe it was the dress, maybe it was her hair, maybe it was the freedom of letting her wings out, or maybe it was the introduction the girls were giving her. Maybe it was Patrick; maybe.

"Now, you just turn this way and wait."

Trista looked up at the sound of Isabella's voice from the common room. Was that the signal? She waited for a moment to see if she heard anything else. When she didn't, she realized that it must have been the signal, and she took a deep breath and she walked to the common room.

Patrick was watching the archway that led back to the girls' dorms, and when Trista came into the room, his mouth dropped open and he stared at her in awe. He was dressed like a Roman warrior, complete with a shield. Trista didn't quite know what to do, so she smiled softly and nervously touched her hair.

Behind Patrick, the girls were grinning at Trista, but when thirty seconds went by and Patrick still hadn't said anything, they started to grab pillows and cushions and toss them into the floor behind Patrick. Trista covered her mouth with her hand to hide her giggle, but it proved pointless when the little giggle turned into a full out laugh.

Patrick finally seemed to snap out of it, "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Trista said in between laughs.

"See you two at the ball," Amy called as she and the other girls left the common room.

Trista walked closer to Patrick and as she did, she realized that they were the only people in the common room. They smiled nervously at each other and then laughed.

"You look great," they both said at the same time.

"You too," they replied in unison.

They laughed again, and Patrick smiled a genuine smile at her. "You look wonderful, Trista," he said.

"You do too," Trista replied.

"So, umm, should we go now?" Patrick asked.

"Sure," Trista replied.

Patrick straightened his helmet and then offered Trista his arm, which she accepted, and they headed for the Great Hall. The entrance hall was filled with students milling about outside, mostly people going to the ball, but there was the occasional fifth year and younger trying to sneak in.

Trista and Patrick made their way through the crowd and into the Great Hall. Trista had to yet again gasp because the Great Hall had been completely transformed. The house tables were gone, and in their place were several round tables that seated six. The centerpiece of each table was a flickering mini jack-o-lantern that floated a few inches above the table. There were also small bags at each seat, but Trista didn't know what they were for. Regular sized jack-o-lanterns floated near the enchanted ceiling casting a flickering glow over the whole scene.

Trista and Patrick found a table that no one had sat at yet and claimed it. They sat and watched the proceedings as other students came in wearing their costumes, which ranged from elaborate to just plain silly. Patrick's hand brushed Trista's and then took hold of it and gave it a light squeeze. He looked over at her, so she smiled and squeezed back.

Soon, when everyone was in the Great Hall, Headmaster Grinkleby made a short speech explaining how dinner would work and then waved his wand so that menus appeared in front of everyone. Trista looked over the choices and chose roast and potatoes, which appeared before her as soon as she said it.

"Now that's service! Steak and eggs!" Patrick exclaimed, and a plate of steak and eggs appeared before him. "Amazing."

When dinner was over, Grinkleby asked everyone to stand in the middle of the Great Hall, and then he waved his wand so that the tables flew over the walls where they settled back down. A band of musical instruments floated into the room to gasps of delights and cheers. They set themselves up and then began to play a slow waltz. Everyone began to groan and shout for more modern music.

"This isn't modern music?" Grinkleby asked.

"Of course it isn't," a boy shouted back. "Play The Fantastic Dragons!"

"Or Conjuring Merlin!" a girl called.

"How about a band called 'The Perplexing Pixies'?" Grinkleby asked. "I hope you know them because, well…"

He stepped back and five people walked into the Great Hall from a room that was near the head table. The students broke out into tumultuous applause and screams as they realized that Grinkleby hadn't tricked them and that The Perplexing Pixies were actually setting up their instruments to play.

The band began to play and everyone started to dance. Trista and Patrick danced wildly, never letting go of each other's hand. The ball was alive with energy and music.

"Okay, now it's time for a slow song for all you couples," the lead singer announced. A few people groaned, but he laughed and continued, "Don't worry, just one. Use it to catch your breath."

A large handful of people walked back over to the tables. Trista looked at Patrick wondering if maybe he wanted to skip the slow songs, but he shrugged and squeezed her hands again. Relieved, Trista stepped closer to him and, as the music began, they began to turn in a slow circle.

"Trista," Patrick said.

"Yeah?" Trista replied.

"Are you my girl?" he asked. "Can I call you my girlfriend?"

Trista smiled and nodded, "Of course you can."

No other words were said, but Patrick tightened the arm around her waist slightly and they continued to dance in slow circles even as the slow song ended and faster ones started back up. Eventually, they both started dancing to the beat until they were exhausted and had to go sit down.

"What do you suppose these bags are for?" Trista asked looking into one, which was empty.

"Don't know," Patrick replied, looking into one as well. "Candy?"

They sat holding hands and watched everyone dance and have a good time. Trista had to keep biting her lip to keep from squealing. Two months ago if anyone had told her she'd have a muggleborn boyfriend and be excited about, she'd have laughed at them. Now, it was possibly the best thing in the world.

"Hey, you want to go for a quick walk?" Patrick asked, "For fresh air."

"Sure," Trista agreed.

They left unnoticed like the several other couples that had already snuck off. They walked to the courtyard where they'd had breakfast that morning and Patrick held out a handful of puffapod seeds. They took turns throwing them against the stone floor and watching them burst into bright pink flowers.

Trista threw the last seed and laughed as it burst into bloom. She noticed Patrick turning to face her, so she turned as well. She was still laughing slightly, but when Patrick's hand came up and touched her face lightly, her breath hitched slightly. His hand caressed her face lightly and she watched as he leaned his face closer and closer to hers until she had no choice but to close her eyes.

Patrick pressed his lips to hers in a soft, almost experimental kiss. Trista was surprised by it at first, but then she relaxed and returned it. It was a short kiss, but Trista knew she wouldn't soon forget it or the entire day. This had been, by far, the best Halloween ever.

_(Author's Notes: This was a long chapter and one I've been looking forward to writing since I began the story. Thanks to everyone who's been reading so far, I hope you stick around for the rest of the story.)_


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